


Submit To Me

by orphan_account



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!Jaskier, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, BDSM, Bratting, Cock Warming, M/M, Omega!Geralt, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Sadism, Shameless Smut, Smut, brat!jaskier, geralt is not a sub, im never certain which things need tagging, jaskier is such a brat, just tell me to tag things, this is gonna be super kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: 5+ times Jaskier submitted and 1 time Geralt did“I’m going to make you come, Jaskier. And then you’re going to get back on your knees,” Geralt’s stroke increases, slowly, as he speaks, and he works deeper and more severe marks to his neck as he holds him by his hair still. “And you’re going to hold my cock in your mouth until I decide you’ve earned a good throat fucking.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 361





	Submit To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on the last chapter for one thing and the outline for my next thing but these horny boys needed me to write more bratty jaskier because it's such a gift and also I need an outlet for it before all my plot based stories degrade into endless smut as well. I do have a loose idea of where this is going and I do intend to post six chapters total, but there's no set schedule for updates to this. It'll just be whenever I need to get their more sadistic/bratty interactions out of my system to focus on less porny things
> 
> <3 all your comments breathe life to my keyboard

“You know Geralt, if you’re so bothered you could just say as much.” Jaskier watches him grind his teeth and say nothing. Honestly, this has been going on for far too long and Jaskier is tired of it. He has eyes, he can see the way Geralt watches him, fists curled so tight the knuckles are white, the way his eyes flutter and he leans just slightly closer to him as he catches a strong whiff of him in his rut. 

He’s held his tongue this long because it makes him feel amazing. Watching Geralt fight himself, trying to pretend like he isn’t so strongly attracted to him that it makes him weak. Watching him glare at whomever he’s chosen to follow up the stairs. But, frankly, this has gone on more than long enough. 

Jaskier rolls his eyes and sits himself right in Geralt’s lap. Geralt growls, sits back as far away from Jaskier as possible, and glares at the wall. Jaskier raises an eyebrow in frustration. 

“Are you serious, Geralt?” Geralt huffs but still won’t look at him.

“Jaskier. Get. Off.” 

“I’m fucking trying, Geralt.” The look on his face when Jaskier says it is more than enough to assure Jaskier that this was the exact right idea. He leans forward, crowding Geralt, pressing his hands into the wall on either side of Geralt’s face. Geralt somehow manages to press himself further into the wall, closing his eyes. Jaskier can see his shiver though, the way he has to swallow from the scent of him. Jaskier’s already hard, his skin feverish, and the sight of Geralt under him, clearly wanting him but trying not to, makes him moan. 

He rolls his hips, rutting his cock into Geralt’s and he’s not surprised that Geralt is hard, too. 

“C’mon Geralt.” Jaskier leans down and traces his nose along the length of Geralt’s neck. “I’m here, I’m willing, and I want you. However you’ll have me. I know you want me.” He whispers it into his skin, rutting his hips again and again and again, breathing hard through his open mouth. 

Geralt’s hands grip his hips, digging his fingers into his skin hard enough to leave bruises soon, and Jaskier gasps, pressing his mouth into Geralt’s ear, forcing him to listen to his whine. 

“Jaskier, stop.” Geralt holds him still, no matter how much effort Jaskier puts into moving his hips, so he resorts to something he knows will get Geralt’s full attention. Hopefully enough to finally break him. 

He swipes his tongue over Geralt’s neck and bites down. 

Before he’s even had a chance to register the feeling of Geralt’s skin inbetween his teeth he’s looking down to Geralt through his lashes. A hand curled into his hair, pulling him back, baring his own throat, and another hand wrapped around his neck. Jaskier smiles and grabs two fistfuls of Geralt’s shirt, keeping him close. 

“Geralt, yes. Please.” 

“Is this what you think you want, Jaskier?” Jaskier moans and ruts his hips into Geralt’s now that he’s free to do so again, just to prove to Geralt exactly how much he wants this. He can see Geralt let out a sigh like he’s been punched in the gut and he knows he finally has him cornered.

“Yes, Geralt, this is exactly what I want. Please, please, Geralt, please.” He rolls his hips again and whines when the hand Geralt has wrapped around his neck slides up to grip his chin, squeezing his cheeks in and nuzzles his nose into Jaskier’s scent gland. It makes his body break out in goosebumps, makes him gasp for breath, makes his thighs squeeze tight, makes his cock weep, so hard it hurts. He ruts again, just to hear the way it makes Geralt groan. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers into Jaskier’s skin as he eases his hold on Jaskier, collapsing into hi, resting his forehead on Jaskier’s collarbone, breathing hard. Jaskier takes a full breath and wraps his hands around Geralt’s head, twisting his fingers into his hair. Geralt sounds suddenly exhausted, and Jaskier knows exactly why. He pulls on his hair, trying to get him to look at him. 

“Geralt, please. Look at me.” Geralt doesn’t, but Jaskier knows he’s listening, his hand now trailing the shape of his neck almost reverently. He still has a hand in Jaskier’s hair, keeping him still. “Geralt, I want this. I want your hands to leave their marks. I want you to hurt me. I know you want it, I know how much you like it. Fuck, Geralt, please. Fuck me. Mark me. Use me.” 

Geralt groans and presses his open mouth against Jaskier’s neck, not quite a kiss, but more than enough to make Jaskier sigh and bite his lip and whine and rut into Geralt, desperate. He’s so close, he’s almost broken him, almost won. 

“Jaskier, behave.” Jaskier groans, frustrated, and he yanks on Geralt’s hair, forces him to look at him.

“Geralt, I swear to the gods, if you do not fuck me,-” 

“Jaskier, behave. Or you’ll get nothing until your next rut.” Jaskier gasps, and stares at Geralt dumbstruck. 

“Geralt, are you saying what I think you’re saying? Because if you’re fucking with me I might just throw myself on the floor and throw the loudest tantrum possible. I’ll do it.” That earns him a chuckle, and Geralt pulls his hair, hard. It fucking hurts, but Jaskier breathes through it, ready to weep with joy. 

“Just remember,” Geralt mumbles into his ear, flicking his tongue out to trace the shell of Jaskier’s ear, “you told me you wanted this.” Jaskier groans, loud, and nods his head enthusiastically. 

“Gods, yes, Geralt. I do, I really fucking do.” 

“Go upstairs,” Geralt bites down on his neck, hard, and it sends shocks throughout Jaskier’s body, straight to his cock, “take off your clothes,” Jaskier bites his lip and moans, “kneel in the center of the room,” Jaskier nods, humming at the sensation of Geralt’s tongue caressing the bite mark, “and wait for me. Don’t you dare touch yourself.” Jaskier nods, hands shaking, but when Geralt’s hands leave him he hesitates. 

“You will come, won’t you?” Jaskier will wait on his knees all night and if Geralt doesn’t come for him he’ll be more hurt than if Geralt had told him no from the start. He gently caresses Geralt’s cheeks, nervous. “Please, tell me now if you’re just trying to get rid of me.” 

Geralt puts his hands on Jaskier’s thighs, and leans into Jaskier’s face, touching their noses, his hands curling around his waist to grab his ass and grind him into his own cock. 

“I’ll be there, Jaskier. Be patient. Wait for me.” Geralt kisses him then, gentle but still so hungry. It makes Jaskier gasp, and sigh, and shake, and groan. “Go on, Jaskier. Show me you can be good.” Jaskier nods, face burning red hot, and drags himself away from Geralt to do as he’s told. He’s shaking with excitement.

The sun has fully set by the time Jaskier hears the door open. Just that is enough to send a shiver down his spine. He’s done exactly what he’s told, his rut making it impossible for his cock to loose an ounce of interest during the two hours he’s waited. He’s shaking, skin burning hot, drenched in sweat. He watches through the fog of his rut as Geralt takes his time removing his shoes, his armor, his swords. Not once does he look at Jaskier. 

“Geralt,-”

“Sh, Jaskier. I haven’t given you permission to speak.” Jaskier whines and grinds his teeth, but quiets himself. He’s waited this long, he can wait a few more minutes. He watches as Geralt lights a candle, sets out his journal, and sits on the chair, at the small desk provided for in their room, and waits. Right as he thinks he can’t take one more second of this Geralt finally looks at him. 

“Come here, Jaskier.” Jaskier groans with relief and shamelessly seats himself in Geralt’s lap, wrapping his hands around Geralt’s neck, and stealing a kiss. Geralt indulges him and it only makes Jaskier the more bold, rutting his hips and lapping at his lips. His knees are sore, they’ll probably be bruised tomorrow, and he’s shaking with his need.

He gasps when Geralt wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it once, slow, twisting it around the head and catching the precome with his thumb. He ‘hm’s and does it again, wrenching another gasp from Jaskier, punching the breath out of his lungs. 

“You’ve been a very good boy for me, Jaskier. How do your knees feel?” Geralt wraps his free hand in Jaskier’s hair and pulls him back, still stroking his cock tantalizingly slow, and mouths at his neck. 

“They fucking hurt, Geralt.” Jaskier can feel Geralt’s smile along his neck, and his brattiness earns him another bite directly over the area he’d so ruthlessly marked earlier that evening. It makes Jaskier moan, shooting an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure through his body.

“I’m going to make you come, Jaskier. And then you’re going to get back on your knees,” Geralt’s stroke increases, slowly, as he speaks, and he works deeper and more severe marks to his neck as he holds him by his hair still. “And you’re going to hold my cock in your mouth until I decide you’ve earned a good throat fucking.” Jaskier bites his lip, trying to nod, and bucks his hips into Geralt’s fist. “And if you’re good, and you take it very well, I might reward you with my mouth.” Jaskier comes, gasping, hands curled in Geralt’s shirt. It’s only a small relief, his cock still achingly hard as Geralt strokes him through the aftershocks of it. 

“On your knees, songbird.” 

“Oh, gods, yes.”


End file.
